[A/N: Many thanks to the reviewers, ESPECIALLY Kathy who old-timers in the Nanny fandom will fondly remember as KathyB. KATHYB, GUYS!]
5.
Niles set down a plate of sandwiches on the kitchen table for Fran and Grace. Grace sat with several books open before her, a notebook half-filled in front of the books. Both said thanks to Niles, who smiled distractedly in reply and went back to stand sentry at the kitchen island. He pretended to keep busy so they wouldn't ask any questions. He'd perfected the art of looking busy over the past week. CC had appeared at the house even less than the week prior, and whenever she did show up, she made sure to be talking to Maxwell or talking on the phone. She hadn't even accepted a cup of coffee from him.
When the entire family had gone to bed that week, Niles had ventured into various rooms of the house, rooms that would ensure complete silence, and sat there, thinking about his life. He wished there was a less cliché way of phrasing it, but that's all he was doing. He tried to pinpoint the exact moment that he'd decided to pin all of his hopes on a life with CC, but now that that possibility was gone, it appeared that that's exactly what he'd done. This was no pipe dream, as he'd originally thought it was. That would have at least been realistic.
He suspected, though, that the idea of CC represented more than just his feelings for her. (After the epiphanies of the past two weeks, he'd easily admitted to himself that he had feelings for her, surprising as that was. Admitting it to other people, now…) CC being in his life automatically increased every area of it: romantic, sexual, economic, financial. She would elevate him in every possible way and though it disgusted him to admit it, he wouldn't even have to work very hard for it.
His life was in very much of a standstill, and it had been since he'd graduated from Oxford. By pinning all of his hopes on CC, Niles realized, he was able to transfer all of the responsibility for nearly every aspect of his life onto her.
But the emergence of Andrew represented everything Niles was not and, now, everything he could never be. Both men were well-educated, but after that, the similarities stopped. Andrew was younger, richer, more ambitious, and likely much more hard-working. Perhaps CC cared for Niles more, but that mattered little in the world Andrew and CC lived in. The world that Niles served.
Niles looked up as the kitchen door swung open. His stupid, stupid heart leapt excitedly as Maxwell and CC entered the kitchen. She'd pinned half of her hair back and her soft red sweater highlighted her beautifully. Niles sighed inwardly. This was the other scenario in which he'd seen her over the week: in a room so filled with people that any conversation between them was impossible.
Still, her eyes looked tired and her face far less expressive than Niles was used to.
"Niles, help me convince CC to stay for dinner," Maxwell said heartily, walking over and kissing Fran and Grace on the forehead in succession. CC stood on the opposite side of the island and looked at Niles, who shrugged and turned to the dishes in the sink. Maxwell's job done—that is, pilfering it off onto Niles—the millionaire distracted himself with his wife and daughter.
"Max, your daughter is a whole lot smarter than me," Fran said.
"Don't say that, sweetheart," Max said.
"Why not, it's true," CC muttered under her breath. She heard Niles snicker across the room.
"What are you working on?" Max asked his daughter, sitting down on the opposite side of the table.
"I'm writing a paper about Chaucer and his use of the locus amoenus," Grace said, tapping her pencil against one of the open books.
"His use of what?" Maxwell asked, confused.
"Locus amoenus," Fran replied knowledgeably. "You know, Latin for hocus pocus. Magic and stuff."
CC rolled her eyes and inspected her nails. "Locus amoenus. It means 'happy place.' Chaucer usually uses a garden."
Grace brightened and smiled at CC, who looked up, surprised at all of the people in the room staring at her. "What? I had a minor in literature."
"Exactly," Grace agreed excitedly. "It's all about a perfect place of safety and comfort, usually echoing the Garden of Eden. So I'm analyzing his use of them in his poems."
"Sounds great," Fran said with a dreamy smile. "Mine would have shoes, chocolate, and the men of One Life to Live in it. And you," Fran added, guiltily looking at Maxwell.
"That's not really the po—" Grace began.
"What about you, honey?" Fran asked her husband.
"Cats wouldn't exist. It would always be tea time, with biscuits, jam, and clotted cream," Maxwell replied.
"Clotted cream?" Fran asked, disgusted, smacking her lips. "How about you, Niles? What's your happy place?"
CC snorted. "Unlimited Lemon Pledge and wood floors as far as the eye can see."
Niles rolled his eyes and ignored her, turning to Fran. "What's the point if it never happens?"
Grace looked over at him worriedly. "I think it's the idea and not the possibility that really matters."
"But the idea serves no purpose if it never comes true," Niles pointed out with a shrug.
"What about you, Miss Babcock?" Grace asked, turning to the blonde who looked bored with the conversation.
"Probably a world where I could actually figure it out on my own," CC responded. "Have a great weekend, Maxwell." CC slipped out of the kitchen and the only two who noticed, Grace and Niles, looked at each other with mild concern. Grace then looked pointedly at Niles and at the swinging door, nudging him with her thoughts. Niles nodded and exited the kitchen quickly.
"Miss Babcock," Niles called out as he walked hurriedly down the hall and into the foyer. CC turned and looked at him blankly. "I haven't…haven't spoken to you in a while."
"I wasn't aware we had anything to say to each other," CC said.
"I rather think it's the opposite," Niles admitted. CC shrugged and continued sliding her arms into her coat. Niles felt strangely desperate, as though if she left at that moment, something would be irrevocably changed. "How…er, how are things with your mother?"
CC smiled, more at Niles's attempt at conversation than the thought of her mother. "The same as they've always been. Apparently I've been granted a week or two to think things over."
"What sort of things?"
CC twined her scarf around her throat and began buttoning her coat. "Nothing. That's what makes it laughable. I have no choice in the matter, in any matter, really, but it makes her feel good to pretend like I do."
"You do have a choice." CC stopped her motions and stared at him. "Well, you do. She can't…she can't force you to do anything you don't want to do."
"This conversation sounds familiar, Niles. She can," CC told him, resuming her buttoning.
"Only if you let her," Niles reminded her.
CC sighed and shook her head simultaneously. "Fine. Then I'm letting her. Are we done here?"
"No," Niles said, grabbing her elbow to halt her tedious movements. "I don't want you to just—"
"To just what? What, Niles? What do you want from me?" CC suddenly shrieked, yanking her elbow from his hand and taking a step away. "Everyone else knows exactly what they want from me, it simplifies things, really, can't you see that? So just tell me, specifically, what it is you want from me and it'll clear everything right up."
Niles held up both palms in the international gesture of backing off slowly. "What are you talking about?"
"My mother, my father, Andrew, everyone," CC ranted.
Niles looked at her suspiciously. "What do you mean about Andrew?"
CC looked back at him and bit her lip. "Nothing, he just…"
Niles reached out and touched her arm softly, carefully. "He what?"
"He…well, he came over to my place last weekend," CC began, her face worried. Niles held his emotions in check, concerned about the look on CC's face. "And…and nothing. He was just drunk and he tried to kiss me at first, but—"
"Did he try to force himself on you?" Niles asked, his voice less controlled.
"No, no, he just…" CC tapered off. She remembered Andrew's arm slung around her and his insistence that he was a man.
Something in CC's face negated her words, or at least added more doubt to her conviction, and Niles let go of her arm to open the front closet and pull out his coat.
"What are you doing?" she asked him.
Niles looked at her and sighed, his face once again so sad that CC felt her throat constrict. He touched her cheek softly and said, "It doesn't simplify anything if you don't want it, too." He left her to sort that out and walked out the front door.
The elevator announced his arrival as Niles exited it and stepped onto the soft carpeting of Andrew's father's company. There was a risk, he knew, that Andrew might not be here. The holidays brought strange, irregular schedules only enjoyed by the rich.
A pert, cheerful receptionist sat behind the desk with a small mouthpiece affixed to her ear. "Good afternoon, welcome to Wilcox Corporation. How can I help you?"
"Hello, love," Niles greeted amicably. He knew a little politeness often went a long way with…well, with people in his field of employment. "I'm here to see Andrew Wilcox."
She smiled at him and brought forth a clipboard with one sheet of paper on it. "Wonderful. Do you have an appointment?"
It took Niles a split second to make up his mind. "Oh, I hope so. I'm Maxwell Sheffield's butler. He sent me here with some papers for Mr. Wilcox to sign." By some miracle, Niles had some folded sheets of paper stuffed into his inner pocket, and he showed them to her now, careful to keep them folded. He hoped the secretary wouldn't want to see it; he doubted a recipe for Christmas ham would pass as important papers for Andrew Wilcox.
The receptionist scanned the list of appointments and made an exaggerated face of regret. "Oh, dear. I don't see you anywhere on here."
"Bloody hell," Niles muttered. Playing up his Britishness often helped, too, for whatever reason. "Mr. Sheffield swore he made a sodding appointment."
She leaned over the tall desk conspiratorially. "Debbie is Andrew's personal secretary. She does this a lot." She glanced down at the list again and looked back up at Niles with another smile. "You know what, he has a few minutes free right now. Let me just tell Debbie you're heading over."
Niles pantomimed wiping relieved sweat off of his forehead. "Thanks so much."
She pressed a button on her headset and chirped, "Hi, Debbie. Maxwell Sheffield's butler is coming to Mr. Wilcox's office with some papers for him. Can you let Andrew know?" She nodded once and pressed another button. "Go on in. All the way down the hall, last office on the right."
"You're a lifesaver, love," Niles said, tossing a flirtatious grin over his shoulder. He walked through the frosted glass doors and his face smoldered. Any man touching CC filled Niles with indignation, but the thought of one forcing himself upon her under the guise of being her husband suffused him with fiery rage.
He spared a cursory nod for Debbie before walking into Andrew's office.
"Niles, is it? Hello. What could Maxwell ha—" Andrew managed to get out before Niles's fist met his jaw. Andrew's face contorted into a mask of confusion and pain as Niles balled his Oxford shirt in his palm. He pulled Andrew's already-swollen face towards his.
"You don't touch her," he managed to seethe out.
"Wha—" Andrew choked out, stumbling forward after Niles let go of him and exited his office.
"Thanks, love, you really helped," Niles threw to the receptionist, who beamed, as he entered the elevator and left the building.
CC entered the mansion the next morning; though it was Saturday, she planned to get as much work done as possible before everyone and their mother took extended time off over the holiday. That was her ready-made excuse, at least; what she really wanted was to talk to Niles. The previous afternoon, she'd spent so long hovering in indecision that by the time she left the mansion to follow Niles, he had disappeared from the street. The news at 11pm and again at 8am hadn't said anything about a butler arrested, so her fears were slightly allayed.
Still, her sneaky little butler could get into a great deal of trouble on his own without any authorities noticing. She paused as she went to hang up her coat. "My butler?" she muttered to herself. "Jesus."
She wasn't sure what had happened to her over the past week. A contrite and rather embarrassed Andrew had shown up on her doorstep on Sunday afternoon, maintaining a polite distance from her front door. He'd apologized profusely, and genuinely enough, CC thought, and there was the smallest wriggling of pity in her heart when Andrew's face clouded over and he mentioned a few unkind words about his father. She had thought back to their meeting with both of their parents, and suddenly Andrew's lack of amicability on that day made a lot more sense.
Still, their interactions were not as friendly and though CC told him that she accepted his apology, she was not alight with forgiveness. She simply understood—or mostly understood, anyhow.
For the other man in her life, well…she mostly understood that, too. She hated the idea of him with GG, but objectively, CC understood that they'd had no claim on each other at that time. Yes, Niles's actions felt like a betrayal—but if they had no true relationship to speak of (and never would, CC constantly reminded herself), what was there to betray?
She could always rely on her anger, but even that was slipping away slowly. She tried to reign it back in so that she could properly frighten Andrew and Niles from ever attempting to hurt her again, but it took far too much energy. Far easier to accept things as they were, CC started to feel. One can only go against the current for so long.
No one was in the office currently, so CC set down her bag and went in search of people in the Sheffield home. She met Grace as CC walked down the hall towards the dining room.
"Hello, little one," CC greeted.
Grace smiled. "Hi, Miss Babcock."
"How's your paper?"
"Oh, I finished it last night. If you're looking for my dad, he and Fran went shopping," Grace told her.
"Figures. I get more done without either of them here, anyway," CC said. Grace laughed lightly.
"Niles is still here, but I don't know how much he can get done today," Grace said.
"Why?"
The youngest Sheffield only smiled and shrugged. "He's in the kitchen. You should go see him."
Grace walked off and CC set off, with slight trepidation, to the kitchen. When she pushed open the door, she saw Niles look up and slide something off of his hand, shaking his arm so that his sweater came down over it.
"What did you do?" CC asked, walking over to Niles.
"Good morning to you, too," Niles said, smoothly walking away from her. He quickly slipped on some oven mitts and looked at her, triumphant.
"The oven isn't even on, dumbass," CC snapped, reaching forward and yanking off the mitt on his right hand. Gasping, she roughly pulled his hand closer. Niles winced and hissed between his teeth. His bruised hand gave way to his red knuckles, one of which was scraped raw. "What did you do?" she repeated, now tenderly holding his hand, fascinated by the different shades of red she saw.
"I hit him," he responded with a shrug.
CC took one more mesmerized look at his hand before throwing it aside and shoving Niles square in the chest, causing him to emit an oomph sound. "You idiot!"
"What? I was…I was defending your honor!" Niles protested.
"My honor?" she spat out. "Never mind that you regularly remind me that I have none. This is serious, Niles. You could get sued for assault!"
"Well, I wasn't thinking about that."
"You weren't thinking at all!" CC exclaimed. "Niles, Niles, God, this will only set her off more."
"Her?" Niles repeated, confused. "Your mother? Come on, Babcock."
"Look what she did when she heard you visited me. What do you think she'll do after she hears you attacked my husband?"
"Don't call him that," Niles snapped, suddenly heated.
CC's shoulders relaxed slightly. "I didn't mean—that's how she'll see it. You just couldn't leave well enough alone."
At that, Niles laughed. "Yes, because you spinelessly bowing to your mother's will and miserably doing what everyone tells you to do is 'well enough'."
"You don't understand," she said, rubbing her face tiredly. "You just don't. It's a different situation with people who are just…just different and you're…"
"What? Normal? Human?" Niles suggested.
She sighed and handed him back his oven mitt. "Just a butler."
Niles watched her leave the kitchen, wondering what offended him the most about their entire interaction. He couldn't settle on just one thing, so he took off the other oven mitt and put them away. There was a possibility of going after her and continuing the conversation, of course, but their discussions were becoming cyclical and pointless. Any sort of admission on either part, even if it was something as simple as yes, I notice you was almost immediately invalidated by either one of them regressing back 5 steps. It used to invigorate him. Now it exhausted him.
Still, his curiosity won as he passed by the open office door twenty minutes later. Unsurprised, he saw that she'd left. He turned, curious, at the sound of the doorbell.
BB stood on the other side of the door, smiling politely. Niles was sure that CC would hate any comparisons, but he saw a lot of her daughter in BB's posture, nose, and slight sneer.
"Good morning," Niles said, giving a small bow. For the rest of that day, and likely the rest of his life, he would wonder what on earth compelled him to bow, after he'd just accused CC of doing the same.
"Is it?" BB returned, entering the mansion and unwrapping herself from a large, gray woolen monstrosity. She handed it to Niles and then rested the handle of her purse in the crook of her arm.
"Miss Babcock isn't here right now," Niles told her, still holding her wrap. Hanging it up meant she was staying.
"Interestingly enough, I came here to talk to you," BB said.
"About?"
"My daughter, of course," she told him, stepping down into the foyer and tapping a petal from the bouquet on the table. Niles half-expected the flower arrangement to wither and die before him.
"All right," Niles said. BB looked pointedly at her wrap until Niles hung it up on a hook in the closet.
"Did you know that in the year before CC's debutante year, she received 8 proposals?" BB asked.
Niles raised his eyebrow. He knew CC very well, he thought, but he had very little interest in her debutante life and, as far as he could tell, so did she.
"Well, she's a pretty enough girl, you can see that," BB continued dismissively. "DD received 10. Anyhow, CC's…well, I guess you could call them suitors, couldn't you, are doing quite well. Five of them run Fortune 500 companies, one lives off his rather ingenious investments, one is an ambassador, and the last is a senator who I've heard is in the running for presidential nomination."
"This is fascinating, Mrs. Babcock, but—"
"CC turned all of them down, of course," BB went on, feigning obliviousness at his attempted interruptions. "Still, Andrew is a fine choice. He'll lead his father's company quite well."
"'Choice' is a rather interesting word to use, don't you think?"
BB tilted her head to look at him, an amused smile on her face. "You sound just like CC when she was 18. She had a choice, Niles. She still does. If the consequences of one are more preferable to another, that doesn't change the fact that she has a choice."
Niles put his hands in his pockets, concealing his balled fists. Funny how BB claiming CC had a choice rankled him, but CC saying she didn't have one irritated him just as much. It was all perspective, he supposed. "Is that all you wanted to tell me about?"
BB turned to him. "You seem like a levelheaded butler, whatever your lofty dreams are. You should understand my daughter's motivations. She's tried every form of rebellion possible, but her favorite has always been to mingle with the help. She befriended the chef's daughter when she was 10 and claimed, for an entire 6 months, that the girl was her best friend. Stuart told me he couldn't hire any chauffeurs younger than 30, for quite obvious reasons."
"I wasn't aware you paid enough attention to your daughter's childhood to notice such things," Niles said, his tone still very much polite.
BB bristled. "Don't mistake whatever my daughter does with you. It's just rebellion."
"I live to help, ma'am," Niles told her. He gave her a cocky grin.
"I breakfasted with Theo and Andrew this morning. Andrew is sporting quite a bruise on his jaw."
"Is he? Shame."
"It would be an even bigger shame for whoever did it to have a record of assault. Most households shy away from having servants in the home with such a past, especially when there are children present," BB said, her voice coolly dispassionate.
Niles simply stared at her. He tried to imagine CC growing up with this heathen as a mother.
"I would hope that someone of your status would give up such frivolous fantasies," BB told him, keeping her light blue eyes on his. "My daughter is not the strongest, emotionally speaking, and your pursuit of any sort of future with her is unhelpful, not to mention laughable."
"I think we have very different views of what is helpful for your daughter," Niles returned smoothly.
"Yes, we do," BB agreed. "Mine is to provide her with a future that is financially secure and accustomed to the life she's used to. Yours is, apparently, to take her away from her family and her family's means and to spend the rest of her life married to a man who still, I believe, doesn't call her by her first name?"
Niles laughed. "I've been caught. I suppose I should return my engagement ring now."
BB smirked. "You can use the Walmart store credit to purchase some new clothes." At that, she fetched her own wrap from the closet and exited the front door.
BB's surprise visit cast a sour mood upon Niles, one that had grown in size and endurance, picking up bitterness along the way. It was nothing he hadn't thought before, but he supposed the reality of another person pointing it out to him made it all the weightier. He knew CC noticed the change in his demeanor; he felt her looking at him whenever he'd enter a room and saw her face, more than once, tinge with sadness when he made to leave it, paying no more attention to her than a butler ought to have.
But the full humiliation of the entire ordeal made itself known later in the week. Niles knew that the Sheffields had plans to attend a Christmas party, but the host had remained a mystery until Maxwell received a call a week before the event.
"Yes, of course. I completely understand. I'm sure he'll be happy to. Fantastic!" Maxwell hung up the phone, a broad smile on his face, just as Niles entered the office with a tray of tea. "Niles, old man, just the person I'm looking for. I've just had a call from Mrs. Babcock, CC's mother."
Niles set the tray down more roughly than usual. CC was, as was usual now, absent. "And?"
"Well, it seems that her Christmas party next week is a waiter short," Maxwell said, briefly explaining why. Niles stopped paying attention, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for BB's latest act of degradation. "She said she'd heard some wonderful things about you, old man, and she seemed so reluctant to ask, so I offered your services for the party. What do you say?"
The decision was already made, of course; Maxwell pretending to ask for Niles's agreement was something Niles called rich guilt. Pretending to offer the help choices, when they had none, was one way to assuage it. "Of course, sir."
"Fantastic! You'll need your tuxedo, so why don't you take some time off this afternoon to drop it off at the cleaner's?" Max suggested, his mind already returning to work.
"Of course, sir." Niles left the office, fuming. He'd briefly wondered why he hadn't been served with any sort of summons or warrant for his 'attack' on Andrew, but he knew that path was too sloppy. A butler assaulting Andrew Wilcox? It might give other servants an idea.
But now, he understood. He would work at the Christmas party which, in all likelihood, CC and Andrew would attend. What other situation could force Niles to realize the futility of his feelings? Others could, possibly, but this one had enough pathos to intrigue BB.
Niles burst into the kitchen, the revolving door smacking against the wall behind it, and CC jumped a step backward, the fridge closing.
"Someone use up all of your Pine Sol?" CC guessed.
"Now she deigns to speak to me?" Niles snapped, shoving a kitchen chair that wasn't in his way. He turned on the faucet with a vengeance. Why did making tea dirty up so many dishes? Why did she have to be in here while he did them?
"You're the one who's been mute all week," CC pointed out. Niles glared at her as he squirted dish soap into the sink. She sighed. "If this is about what I said last weekend, about you just being a butler—"
"Oh, but it's true, Miss Babcock," Niles seethed. "Is there anything I can get for you, Miss Babcock? Do you need your shoes shined, Miss Babcock? I apologize, Miss Babcock, I shouldn't even be making eye contact with you." He gave her a bow, this one low and exaggerated.
Still, he couldn't resist looking over at her as he returned to the dishes. He'd expected anger, maybe even a sexually-laced directive about him getting down on his knees to shine her shoes, but instead there was another look on her face, one of profound disappointment. There was no sharpness to it, but still it pierced his righteous indignation and left him deflated and small.
"She got to you, too, didn't she," CC said to him. It was not a question, and so Niles didn't know how to answer. She laughed, once, quick and abrupt and humorless. "She even took you away." She spun on her heel and left the kitchen.
The week leading up to the Christmas party found CC mostly in her penthouse. She worked from her home office, calling backers, settling disputes among the director and choreographer, and finalizing contracts. She had little desire to be out in the world or talk to anyone if it wasn't work-related.
She felt a darkness settling over her, and though it wasn't as heavy and burdensome as it had been before she'd been sent to the Place, it still worried her. She knew enough now to know that she ought to call Dr. Bort and schedule an appointment with her, but an indifferent dissatisfaction prevented her from picking up the phone.
She knew enough about her depression to understand that, as much as she'd like to, there was not one cause for its resurgence and so there couldn't be one solution to it. But since Thanksgiving, so many things that had proved to be so important to her had slipped away: her freedom, her future, even the vaguest notion that her family might have supported her. Niles.
Blinking rapidly, she staved off an onslaught of tears. Her emotions, usually so easily controlled, brimmed close to the surface lately, and she knew this was another symptom of her mental setback. She hadn't heard from Niles since last Thursday, and she hadn't even bothered to question her mother about what had happened. BB seemed to take CC's sullenness as confirmation that her plan had worked, so she hadn't said anything either.
When BB had shown up Sunday afternoon with a garment bag, CC had simply taken it and nodded along as her mother instructed her to wear it to the Christmas party. How exciting for BB, CC had thought as she saw her mother smile at her agreeableness, to finally have the pliable and compliant daughter she'd always wanted.
CC reached towards her phone to call their leading lady's agent but her hand dropped halfway there. Suddenly, she felt so weary. When she heard her doorbell ring, she sat in her chair for a full minute before deciding what to do. Visitors on the other side of her door had never been something she'd looked forward to, and now she greeted the idea with absolute dread.
When the bell rang again, and Chester's barks verged on psychotic, CC stood and walked towards the door. Seeing her father through the peephole, CC immediately unlocked her door and flung it open.
"Where have you been?" she asked, one arm still holding the door open.
"Kitten," Stuart greeted, walking a few steps towards her and embracing her. CC stood as still as a board. When was the last time her father had hugged her? "I'm so sorry. I've been in France—"
"Where apparently they don't have any telephones," CC remarked, shutting the door before Chester ran out.
"I'm sorry," Stuart said again, pressing his palm to his chest, clad in a crisp black suit. "I had no idea what your mother was planning."
"So you didn't know?"
"Of course not," Stuart said, his forehead wrinkling in dismay. "I don't support any of this, kitten."
For a moment, CC's heart soared. "Can you stop any of it, then?"
The look on his face took out its shotgun and wrenched her heart from the air. "I don't think so. If it was just your mother, yes, but it seems like Andrew's family supports it as well."
"Then why are you here?" CC snapped, anger seething out of her pores.
"I came to offer my help," Stuart said, spreading his palms magnanimously. CC glared at him, the man infinitely more comfortable being a businessman than being a father.
"Why? You haven't offered it any time before," CC replied.
"CC, no need to be—"
"So rude? You sound just like your wife," CC said. "You've never been here for me, not even last year when…" CC trailed off. Her anger swept out of the room as quickly as her father had appeared in it.
Stuart had the good grace to hang his head. "I'm sorry, CC. I truly don't know what to say. As soon as I heard your mother was in New York, I left right away. I never imagined she'd take it this far."
Despite the obvious truth in his words, CC still couldn't muster any gratitude towards the man who, let's not forget, arranged the entire marriage in the first place. "Yes, well. You married her. You should know."
"I know her as well as you do," Stuart said. "Our marriage more closely resembles yours and Andrew's than you might think."
CC raised her eyebrows at him, and he nodded earnestly.
"I'd known her longer than you knew Andrew, of course," Stuart said. "And for quite some time, I'd thought we could make it work…but your mother being who she is…"
CC nodded. "Are you attending the Christmas party tonight?"
"I suppose I will. You know, I think your brother is coming in town for it," Stuart told her. CC rolled her eyes. "Oh, come now, CC. He regrets his hand in this. He's the one who tracked me down in the Rhone Valley, you know. Asked if I could help."
CC managed a small smile. At least she still had her brother, she supposed.
After a few more minutes of irrelevant small talk, CC let her father leave to get situated in his hotel before the party and CC languished on the couch long enough to wonder if she could hole up in her penthouse effectively enough to skip the party that night.
An insistent knock on the door took her from her reverie. Confused, but thinking perhaps it was her brother, CC walked over to the door and groaned when she saw who it was.
"I heard that, Miss Babcock!" Fran's voice called out. "I know you're in there!"
"Yes, but why are you out there?" CC returned.
"Just visiting!" Fran sang out.
Reluctantly CC unlocked and opened her door, Fran's bright orange coat a shock to the eyes compared to CC's white and slate gray décor. "Hi, Nanny Fine."
"Hiya, Miss Babcock. I haven't seen you in a while," Fran said.
CC shut the door behind her and motioned to the closet, indicating that Fran could hang up her coat if she wanted. "No, I've been working from home."
"Hmm," Fran said, hanging up her coat and revealing an even brighter red and green monstrosity. CC wondered if she could politely ask Fran to put her coat back on. "Niles has been in a funk lately, too."
"Scrubbing Bubbles always has something up his shorts," CC said dismissively, sitting on the couch next to Chester. Fran sat down on the chair adjacent to it, and Chester immediately jumped down and cuddled on Fran's lap. CC glowered.
"It seems like his mood swings follow yours, though," Fran pointed out. "Maybe you've synced cycles!"
CC laughed at what Niles would say to that, and although the most she could claim to have felt towards Fran before was tolerance, she felt a rush of gratitude at the nanny for at least offering her amusement.
"But really, Miss Babcock, I came to ask if you were all right," Fran said, her voice suddenly and surprisingly serious. "I haven't asked about your husband even though I'm dying to know because as my own reminds me every day, it's none of my business. But you just don't seem like yourself."
CC made a sound of indifference and brushed a piece of lint off of her knee.
"For example, you didn't say anything about my Christmas outfit, and normally you would," Fran pointed out. "Something like, I dunno, every time you wear a dress like that, Nanny Fine, an angel gets trampled to death."
For the second time that day, CC laughed. "That's pretty good. I'll have to remember that. All right," she granted with a nod, "things have been terrible. How much has Niles told you?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?" she repeated incredulously.
"Nothing!" Fran affirmed, in as much disbelief as CC. "That's how I really know something is wrong."
In as abridged a story as she could manage, CC filled Fran in on everything, leaving out certain details (namely, that she and Niles had had sex). "So I guess this is what it is, then. Maybe I'll get lucky and I'll be infertile so he'll divorce me."
To her credit, Fran didn't ask why CC wouldn't just refuse to comply. "That's horrible. Oy, you gentiles are something else. I'm not saying my mother didn't harass me about marriage, 'cause ya know she did, but nothing like this."
"Yes, well. That's my story," CC summed up.
"Well, it explains why Niles is so crabby, then," Fran said, leaning back in the chair and scratching Chester's ears.
"Does it?" CC asked innocently.
"Look, Miss Babcock, I know we don't talk about this, but I've watched enough soap operas in my life to know sexual tension when I see it, and I saw it from day one with you two," Fran explained. "And I thought that was it, and it makes sense, right? You see it in all the movies. The butler and the business partner. Forbidden romance. They pretend to hate each other, but really, they just want to have sex."
CC stared at the nanny, listening as her relationship with Niles became a common trope.
"But that isn't just it," Fran continued. "Though let me tell you, the kiss I saw between you three years ago? That would have given the censors something to scream about. Hoo-ha!" Fran fanned herself. "But I saw how you were when he was in the hospital. Then I saw how he was when you were in the hospital. But let me tell you, right now, he's just miserable."
CC shifted uncomfortably. She should have never taken for granted that the nanny wasn't paying that much attention to her.
"And I'm not blaming you or anything, but I get it. I do," Fran said.
"You get what?" CC asked, not following Fran's whacky train ride of a thought.
"Why he's so unhappy. I remember a lot of times, throughout the years, when I realized how ridiculous it was for me to be in love with Max," Fran admitted. "I never talked about it, but it was there. He's rich, I'm not. He's got his own society, I don't. I don't really fit into his lifestyle. But it was always so much worse when someone else pointed it out to me."
"I never realized you were so…"
"Aware?" Fran supplied. She smiled at CC. "Not as dumb as I look. It doesn't help that most of the shows I watched when I grew up said 'love conquers all' and that was that. It isn't that simple."
"No, it isn't."
"And people from different social classes don't usually get married," Fran said with a simple shrug. "So I get why Niles is so depressed. Right when he starts realizing he really has it bad for ya, he realizes he'll never get a chance with you."
"I…" CC didn't finish her sentence. What could she say? Fran only looked at her sympathetically.
"I don't hate you for it, Miss Babcock. I think you're as bummed about losing that chance as he is," Fran said conspiratorially.
"Nanny Fine, I have no idea what to say. I never thought I'd have this conversation with you."
"It's important to know that people understand what you're going through," was all Fran offered. "Plus Grace has been bugging me about you since Thanksgiving, saying she's worried about you."
A warm feeling ignited inside her as though she'd just gulped hot chocolate. "Well, I…thank you."
Fran smiled. "You're welcome. So," Fran said, clapping her hands to her knees and startling Chester. "Let's talk about this Christmas party tonight."
CC shrunk back against the couch. "Let's not."
"Yes, let's. Look, being married to Max isn't always easy, and I'm not looking forward to this party very much, either," Fran told her. "I'm just the gold-digging nanny, right? So let's face this thing together. As friends."
"Friends?" CC repeated warily.
"Yes, Miss Babcock, as friends. What are you wearing tonight?"
"A dress my mother sent over. It's in that closet," CC said, waving an indifferent hand towards where Fran had hung up her coat.
Fran hopped up and over to the closet, pulling out the bag and unzipping it. She made a face. "It's ok. Very…pink."
"Pink?" CC repeated, hurrying over to Fran and looking at the pink chiffon dress. "What is she doing? I hate pink. I'm not going to this party."
"Hmm," Fran said, a very Lucy Ricardo-esque look on her face. "I have an idea."